A sudden instinct for carefulness had prompted him to make that request. At the last moment he had thought that he noticed on Beorn's part a certain uneasiness in handing over to him the custody of Spurling. He was afraid that the distrust might grow upon him, causing him to return unexpectedly, perhaps just at the time when he and Spurling were starting on their southward journey. It was to prevent such an interference with his plans that he had named a definite time for their next meeting, for, by so doing, he had given Beorn to understand that he intended to remain at Murder Point throughout December. The hinting at the birth of his child had added to his request a show of naturalness, and had at the same time let them know that he was aware of his wife's condition—a difficult knowledge to communicate to people who spoke rarely, and then only of trivial affairs. As yet he had not decided as to when he would set out, for he hesitated between the manfully fulfilling of his new responsibility and the callously accomplishing of his old purpose; if he should choose the latter, he had provided for Peggy so that she would not be left too long by herself, by the promise which he had exacted from her brother and father to return for Christmas Eve.
For the first time he was left truly alone with her. Standing side by side, they watched the trappers descend the Point to the pier, where their dogs lay waiting them. The whips cracked and the teams straightened out.
For a few strides they moved toward the opposite bank and then, to Granger's amazement, wheeled to the left, and commenced travelling up-river to the west. The loaded sleds swung lightly over the ice and, as he listened, the shouting of the drivers and the yelping of the huskies grew fainter, till they were no more heard. He was made terribly afraid by the direction they had taken, for he knew that Beorn's trapping grounds had always lain to the northwards, and never around God's Voice; they were still less likely to do so now, since he had quarrelled with the factor. Then why had he gone to the west?
He turned to the girl at his side to question her, "Did you know that they were going there?" he said. She did not answer him; he saw that her eyes were intently fixed upon the bend. Her lips moved, and her hands made the sign of the cross upon her breast as if she were praying. Without replying, she entered the shack.
He did not follow her, for his feelings were changed with anger. He felt that, whether knowingly or unknowingly, they had betrayed him through their secretiveness. While he had been absent they must have heard that Spurling was a man with a price upon his head. They might even have learnt it from Pilgrim at the time of his June visit, but had not laid hands upon him because he had appeared to be his friend. But now since their return, in his delirium he had probably uttered words concerning Spurling which had left them with the impression that he desired his death—and had given them their excuse for gratifying their own covetousness and revenge for the Forbidden River trespass.
Even what he had said to them about returning for Christmas Eve might have been taken as having a double meaning, referring not only to the birth of the child, but also to the thousand-dollar reward to be gained by the arrest. Spoken as it was, in the prison-cabin, that was most likely how it had been taken. Since they had accepted him as their confederate, it seemed evident that they did not know that the arrest of Spurling might entail his own hanging. If all that he had conjectured was true, he had now no option but to release Spurling and to make good his escape with him at once; for from Murder Point to God's Voice was no more than seventy miles. At once! But he would not be strong enough to travel for some days yet, and Spurling could not be in very excellent condition for such a journey—to be thrown into an out-house and left there for a fortnight, with back bent double and arms and legs bound, is not the best kind of training.
Before doing anything rash he would talk to Peggy, and find out how much she knew about it. Following her into the shack, he made fast the door and threw himself on the pile of furs which had been his couch. The lamp was not lighted, but the stove was red-hot and scattered an angry glare. He called to her; she came to him timidly from the far end of the room and sat down beside him. He commenced abruptly by telling her that the man who was chained out there in the cabin was a murderer. Did she know that? She nodded. How did she know that? She shuddered, and pointed with her hand out of the window in the direction of the bend.
He did not gather what she meant, but for the present he let it pass.
And did she know that there were a thousand dollars offered for Spurling's capture? She shrugged her shoulders, and again gave her assent. Then, raising himself on his elbow, he asked her plainly, "Is that what Eyelids has gone to get?"
She smiled down at him as though she were owning to something worthy; "I hope so," she said.